


You Tempt My Anxious Mind

by glowinghorizons



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/glowinghorizons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 3 AU. A re-telling of the rescue mission in Neverland. With Henry missing, Emma is at the end of her rope emotionally. Working together to save her son, she finds unexpected kinship and comfort in the pirate. Can they beat the clock to save Henry before he succumbs to Neverland's magic? (Title taken from the song "1957" by Milo Greene)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Would it be much better if I knew nothing about you?

**Author's Note:**

> In this chapter: Emma and Tamara face off before Henry is kidnapped, and Hook tends to her injuries aboard the Jolly Roger. Takes place as soon as the Neverland Crew board the Jolly Roger.

They set sail just before sundown in Storybrooke, and Hook informs them he’d rather they were farther out to sea before trying to open a portal. “You’ve all managed to save the town; I’d hate for it to be sucked into God knows where so soon,” his tone is sardonic, but a serious glint lights his eyes.

He keeps one eye on Swan as they mill about the deck, knowing that her pacing is due to worrying about her son, but there’s something else wrong. She’s limping slightly and strangely quiet. It’s not like her to let someone else call the shots, least of all him. “Swan?” He calls her name, “A word?” His tone brokers no argument and he gestures for her to follow him into his cabin.

It takes a few moments for her to climb down the ladder, and he notes with dissatisfaction that she is wincing with every move she makes.

"What?" She snaps, noticing his gaze lingering on her midsection.

"Lift your shirt," he says slowly, watching her eyes narrow.

"I beg your unbelievable—"

"You’re hurt."

She actually looks sheepish, and that’s his first clue that something is very wrong. “It’s nothing—”

"Swan. Lift your shirt."

When she does, he feels the breath being knocked out of him at the sight of her abdomen, a deep wound there causing the undershirt she has on to be stained a dark red. “Swan…” He starts through grit teeth before realizing he has no idea what to say. “Take that off and get on the bed.”

"Excuse me?"

"For once in your life, do as I ask, Swan. I need to tend your wound if you have any hope of making it to Neverland to save your son." The thought of Henry seems to do it, and she makes her way to his bed, sitting down gingerly on the edge without further complaint.

He moves around his cabin with purpose, gathering supplies to begin to treat her wound. Most of his supplies have been with him for years, so he knows whatever he’s got, it won’t be the sterile environment of that hospital he had been in.

"What are you going to do?" She asks when he moves back towards the bed, and he pretends not to notice the slight tremor in her voice. This entire situation is far more intimate than anything they’ve endured together in the short time they’ve known each other, and he swallows thickly as he eyes the deep cut in her side.

"I’m going to have to stitch it."

She startles at the thread and needle in his hand. “Like hell—”

"Do you want to die?" He snaps, and her wide eyes meet his, and he’s sure the fire in her eyes matches his own. "If I don’t stitch this, you will bleed out."

She doesn’t say anything else, just glares at his brutal honesty, but he needs to hear her give him permission to do this. His hands are already shaking, and his nerves threaten to get the better of him. Yes, he’s a pirate. He’s seen more than one man get injured on his ship, but that’s what they had Starkey, the medic, for. He thinks he’s shaking partly out of anger as well as nerves, and the thought makes him grit his teeth once more. He pauses for a moment to hold the needle over the flame of a candle he’s lit, and puts all his energy into steadying his hand.

"Can you please just get on with it?" Emma interrupts his thoughts, and when he meets her eyes he is surprised to see a good amount of fear there before she quickly replaces it with nonchalance. _Stubborn Swan_.

"I’ve never done this before," he says quietly. "One of the perks of being Captain."

"Not really what I want to hear right now, Hook."

The corners of his mouth tilt upwards in amusement despite his (decidedly lessening) anger. “Be still,” he tells her, and sets to work.

He is careful, so careful, but he can see her muscles jumping under his touch and can practically feel it himself every time he pierces her skin with the needle. She doesn’t make a sound, not even when he slips and jabs her a bit harder than he intended. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately, but she waves him off.

"Just keep going."

"How did this happen?" He asks, realizing that he doesn’t even know how she got to this state.

"It was Tamara. I saw her before they… Before they took Henry. I tried to stop them and she got me with a knife. I wasn’t watching my weak side, it was stupid of me."

"And where was Baelfire during all this?" He asks, his voice more harsh than he intended. He shouldn’t harbor any negative feelings towards the man, but knowing what he does now (that he is Henry’s father, that he and Emma were… whatever they were) changes many of the ways he used to look at Bae.

"He… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now."

Hook’s jaw clamps shut at her words, feeling them go straight to his gut. “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t say anything else as he finishes stitching her wound, and refuses his help in cleaning herself up. “It’s fine. Thanks.”

"Swan…" He says tiredly, his eyes shutting in frustration. "At least let me bandage it."

"I don’t need you to do that!" She rounds on him, eyes blazing, "I didn’t ask you for any of this! I can handle it myself. I’ve looked after myself for my entire life and I don’t need anything from anyone, least of all you."

He knows she is angry and tired and fearful for her son, but her lashing out at him so harshly still stings, and suddenly all his anger from before is back in full force. “If you don’t bloody need anyone then why am I here?!” He shouts, only semi-satisfied at her stunned silence. “If you don’t need me, don’t need anyone, then why did I turn my ship around?” She doesn’t say anything, but her gaze is searching his in that infuriating way that she has, and he knows that he can’t hide his inner confusion from her.

_We understand each other._

"Gods above, but you make me angry," he tells her, almost not loud enough for her to hear. "I was so close to finally getting my revenge," he takes a step closer to her, "and then you show up and start spouting off about villains and heroes."

"If I’m such a miserable presence in your life, then why did you come back?” She sounds just as angry as he feels, and it is as if something snaps inside of him.

"I don’t bloody know!" He rakes a hand through his hair, knowing that this is a dangerous line he is treading with her, but he quite literally can’t hold it in anymore. He had taken a big enough chance coming back for her and her family as it was (because he had never done that for anyone before, not once) and now he was really going to take a leap, because he couldn’t be sure if she would kill him for what he was about to say.

"Don’t you see?" His words came out more pained than he liked, but he doesn’t even bother to try to mask his emotions anymore. "You have made me question _everything_. You wandered into my life and turned everything on its head and now I’m playing at being a hero when I don’t even have anything to gain!” His breaths came out in a huff, “I came back for you. I did all of this,” he gestures around his cabin, his ship, “for you. So, yes, I am angry. I’m angry that you were almost the second woman to die on the deck of this ship that I…” he trails off and he hears Emma suck in a breath at the look he knows is in his eyes. “So when you tell me that you don’t need anyone, that you wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t here at all…. that makes me angry, Emma, because there hasn’t been a time since I’ve met you where I was sure of myself.”

He turns away, unwilling to see the rejection on her face. She doesn’t need to be burdened with his conflicted heart, but he quite literally can not keep it in a second longer. It’s true — ever since he met Emma Swan he had been reevaluating what was important. In short, she made him want to be better. She made him see that not everything in his life is terrible, that while the pain he’s been living in for the last three hundred years might still ebb and flow through his veins, he doesn’t have to let it define him anymore.

It is terrifying, quite frankly, to think that she holds such power over him in such a short amount of time.

"I’m sorry," she says quietly, and he realizes with a start that she is standing much closer to him than she had been before. "I… I know how it feels to be… to be so set in your ways that when things change you just want to run."

He doesn’t say anything, not sure what he could even say to bring them out of this intense moment they find themselves in.

"Thank you, Hook. For the stitches." She smiles at him softly, a look in her eyes that gets his pulse racing, "and for coming back. No one…. no one has ever done that for me." She says the last part almost to herself, but he hears more emotion in that statement than anything she’s ever said to him before. It’s that sad, broken tone in her voice that ultimately makes his next move seem so natural.

He steps forward slowly, his hand reaching up to cup her jaw, lightly tracing over a small cut on her chin. She flinches slightly but doesn't move away, and he takes a deep breath before moving closer, their chests brushing together as both of their breathing grows shallower. "You don't have to bear it all alone," he tells her quietly, "you have parents who love you, and--"

"And you?" She asks, her voice not more than a whisper.

"I told you once that we make a good team, Swan," he tells her, feeling a smile start to grow on his face, "I'm a man of my word."

He's never met someone who showed so many emotions in their eyes as Emma Swan, but he was quite sure he could spend the rest of the evening staring into her green eyes, half convinced the answers to life's questions rested there. Her eyes are locked on his, but he doesn't make another move, leaving whatever happens next up to her. He's learned once what happens when someone pushes her limits, and he has no desire to see her running away from him again.

When her lips meet his in the next moment, it's even more than he imagined. It's soft, so soft, and so tender, so unlike how he thought their first kiss would be.

_(Not that he imagined it often... maybe once or twice since he's met Emma. He can't help it if she's mysterious and beautiful and... he just can't help it)_

He resists the urge to gather her up in his arms and pull her closer and slowly pulls away from her, inhaling sharply at the loss of her warmth. "I... I can't..." She hesitates, her brow furrowed.

"It's all right, Swan."

"It's just... Henry is missing, and I--"

"Swan." He says her name firmly, and makes eye contact with her, "I'm not asking anything of you. Not right now." He moves away from her, the space in between them feeling smaller than it ever has. "Take care you don't rip those stitches."

He turns away from her, too tired to face what it is that he's feeling. He still barely knows her, yet he finds that he feels this connection more intimately than he's felt with anyone else in a long time. The feelings, however, they're too new and too overwhelming for him to sort through now, and he hopes that she'll take the hint and leave his quarters.

"Hook?"

"What is it, Swan?"

"I won't forget what happened here." She says it so quietly; her voice doesn't even sound recognizable. Before he can turn around to say anything else, she's gone.


	2. It takes me away, takes me away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The original plan to rescue Henry is thwarted, and Emma and Hook clash over how best to proceed in their rescue mission. Hook tries to convince Emma to trust him again to help her save her son, and someone no one expects to show up finds them on the Jolly Roger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long wait for part two! My muse disappeared for awhile, but I think it's back now. Again, I don't own OUAT, the characters, or the lyrics that are used for the title of the fic and the chapters. Please review if you read!

“Let’s try to tempt the fairies out of their homes, Hook! Let’s do exactly the opposite of what you say, Hook!”

“I don’t sound like that!”

“You do, Swan.”

“Can we not talk about this now?!”

“Oh of course, _now_ you want to listen to me,” Hook replies sardonically as the two of them tear through the jungle, an angry horde of fairies hot on their heels.

It had been Emma’s idea to try and get the fairies’ help in tracking down Henry, despite Hook’s protests that not all fairies were the kind ones she had grown up reading about. However, Emma could be incredibly stubborn when she had a goal in mind, as Hook was quickly learning.

“This way,” Hook shouts, reaching out and grabbing Emma’s arm as she nearly passes him, tugging her with him into a small opening in a rock crevice to his left side. Her body jostles into his as she lets out a huff, nearly ripping her arm from his grasp once they’re inside.

“Would it kill you to keep your hands to yourself?”

“Sorry for trying to save your life, Swan, I’ll do my best to never let it happen again.” His voice drips with sarcasm as he stares at her, trying to figure out what it is about her that gets under his skin so much.

Since they arrived in Neverland a week ago, neither one of them has brought up the kiss that they shared on his ship, in his cabin. He knows she wants to forget it ever happened. It stings, yes, but he can’t focus on that now. He knows he will lose whatever weird trust she has in him if he doesn’t help her get her son back. He admires her for it, at the end of the day. The devotion she has to her family is something he can relate to. There was a time when he would have done anything for his family, as well.

“How long are we going to have to stay in here?” She asks, breaking the silence. Her arms are crossed and he knows she would much rather be on the ship trying to forge another plan.

“Fairies have magic, Swan,” he explains slowly, “If we leave now, they’ll find us for sure. We need to wait an hour, at least. We need to make sure they’ve lost our trail.”

“We don’t have time for that!” She hisses, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

“I’m not doing this to spite you,” he argues, feeling his temper rising, “I’m doing this to keep us both alive.” He knows time is of the essence. God only knows what her son has gone through on this godforsaken island already.

They spend the better part of the next hour in complete silence, tension thick in the air between them. Again, Hook contemplates how he could have possibly let this happen. He feels like a fish out of water, quite literally, as he tries to figure out the enigma that is Emma Swan. She has captured his attention quite dangerously. He’s never done this before – come back for someone, wanted to help someone with little to no gain on his part – and he doesn’t know how to make sense of his feelings.

He’s spent so long trying not to feel _anything_ that suddenly feeling purpose again is a shock to his system. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in her stunted posture and the lines of worry that seem to permanently crease her forehead. He doesn’t pretend to understand what she’s going through, but he wishes that she would allow someone else to shoulder some of her burden. He’s not delusional enough to believe that that someone would be _him_ , but at least her parents? He knows there’s more to the story there than she will likely ever tell him, but he wants to believe that there’s more to Emma Swan than this lonely, albeit strong and brave, woman that he knows.

“It’s probably safe to leave now, Swan,” he tells her quietly. The sun is going to go down soon and he doesn’t want to get stuck in the jungle at night.

She walks past him, brushing against his shoulder, never saying a word, and he rolls his eyes, wondering if she’s always so hard on herself.

“Try to relax, will you? You’re going to give _me_ a headache.”

She whirls around, fire in her eyes, “Oh, I’m sorry. Am I _bothering_ you?”

“Swan—“

“My son is out there!” Her voice cracks. “He’s out there, alone, and he doesn’t even know that anyone is here to rescue him. Who knows what Tamara and her lackeys have done with him! He could be—“

“No.” Hook interrupts that train of thought immediately, knowing from experience that nothing good ever comes from assuming the worst. “No. Swan, I know you’re worried, but keeping a level head is important, especially in Neverland.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. Every dangerous situation I’ve ever been involved in with you has been because you couldn’t stay calm!”

He feels as if she’s slapped him, but he tries not to let it show. She’s right, after all. _You don’t care about anyone but yourself._ Her words to him repeat themselves over and over in his head until they’re all he can hear, and he has to shut his eyes against the onslaught.

He steps closer to her, invading her personal space, feeling a sick thrill when her eyes widen, but she doesn’t move away. “Listen to me closely, love. I know this island like the back of my hand,” he glares at her when she snorts in amusement, “the point is: you would do well to listen to me when it comes to Neverland. You’re no good to your son if you’re dead.”

For a minute they both stand there, staring at each other, the air between them crackling with energy. He wonders if she remembers what she said to him the night they kissed – that she wouldn’t forget that night. He had shown her more of himself than he’d shown to anyone in _years_ that night. He allowed himself to be vulnerable, and now it appears the Savior herself can barely stand to be within ten feet of him.

He breaks her gaze first, clearing his throat and taking a step backwards. “We need to get moving before it gets dark.”

///////

They get back to the ship just as the sun is beginning to set. For a moment they both pause in their trek to admire the way the beach is bathed in gold by the setting sun, the beauty of Neverland outweighing the danger just for a moment.

When they board the ship, they are immediately bombarded by a near frantic Mary Margaret and David.

“Emma! Emma, where have you been?! We thought something happened—“

“I’m fine,” Emma says, exhaustion palpable in her voice. “We got… sidetracked.”

“Did you get help from the fairies?”

Hook shares a look with Emma before replying. “… Not as such.”

“We’ll have to try something else.” Emma says, and Hook notices that she’s shying away from her mother, actively avoiding the adoring gaze of her parents.

“Hook, if we don’t get Henry back, this is going to be all on you,” David tells him, a firm finger pointed in his direction.

Hook rolls his eyes, used to the accusations from the Prince by now, but is surprised nonetheless when Emma comes to his defense.

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“He’s the one who suggested the fairies in the first place,” Mary Margaret points out, “And now we’ve lost an entire day.”

“He suggested it, yes, but he also said it was a slim chance. It was my idea to try and find their dwelling.” Emma says.

Hook decides he’s had enough of the finger pointing, and steps forward, unknowingly shielding Emma with his body. “I’m sorry, how many times have the rest of you been to Neverland?” He asks, and oh, if Liam could hear him now… _your inner Captain is showing, little brother_ , he would say. “That’s right. You haven’t.” He stops for a moment, eyes fierce as he takes in their sheepish expressions. “I spent the better part of my formative years here. I know this island as well as Pan himself, and if we have any hope of finding Henry, we need to be patient. This island… it’s infused with magic. It will make us confused. It will make us doubt ourselves. It will turn us against each other so fast that we forget why we are even here in the first place.”

He takes a step backwards, almost walking into Emma, and is surprised when he realizes the way he must have looked, standing in front of her almost protectively. He swallows hard before continuing, “We need to sleep. All of us. Tomorrow we’ll start again and we’ll think of something that doesn’t involve the bloody fairies. Savvy?”

No one says a word, but he feels the fight drain out of him anyway. He just wants to go to his cabin and get some sleep and try to get away from these people, these _honorable_ people who make him feel like nothing but the villain he has become. Most of all, he needs to get away from Emma’s knowing look, the one that says she’s thankful for him taking control like the Captain he is. He needs to get out of her line of vision before he does something stupid like try to console her in front of her parents.

Without a word, he turns on his heel, his coat billowing out behind him, and heads for the captain’s quarters below deck. He hears the rest of them begin a murmured conversation, but he can’t be bothered to stick around and listen to what opinions they’ve got. He needs to come up with a different plan to save Henry, and then he needs to sleep.

///////

He’s just about to blow out the candle in his cabin when he hears the creak of the ladder. Startled, he makes a grab for his dagger, but stops when Emma descends the ladder, his heart slowing when he sees the familiar blonde hair.

“It’s just me,” she says when she gets to the bottom and sees him reaching for the hilt of his blade. “Sorry,” she says, looking at him strangely, and he realizes he’s not wearing a shirt. He flushes under her gaze, but forces himself to fall back into his standard pirate swagger that he’s perfected over the years.

“See anything you like, darling?” He leers at her, feeling them fall back into familiar territory when she scoffs.

“Please. You wish.”

“Is there something I can help you with, or are you just here to ogle me?”

“Can you put a shirt on?”

“You barge in here when I’m trying to retire for the night and now you want to make demands? Honestly, Swan, where are your manners?”

Emma rolls her eyes and moves closer to his desk where there he has maps and notes laid out across the surface. “What are we going to do?” She asks after a minute, sounding desperate.

He pauses for a second, wanting to get this right. She’s being vulnerable again and he wants to make sure she knows that he’s here to help her. He’d rather avoid another day like today where all they did was fight, even though he knows it’s likely that they’ll clash again. It’s how they operate, seemingly.

“For starters, would it kill you to listen to me for once?” He asks, and holds up a hand when she begins to retort, “Emma.” (It shouldn’t sound like that coming from his mouth, like it’s _important_ , but it _is_ because he never calls her by her name. He tries to distance himself by calling her ‘Swan’, but you know what they say, desperate times…) “Emma, I know you want to save your son, and we _will_. I also know that you don’t need anyone’s help. You’re strong and smart, but the fact of the matter is that we are outnumbered here, Swan.”

“I can’t stand the waiting,” she admits, “I just want to _do_ something.”

 “Sometimes patience pays off, love.” He tells her softly, watching her warily as she nearly slumps into the chair at his desk. He doesn’t know how to deal with her when she’s not yelling at him. It’s rather off putting. “I have a few more ideas that we can go over in the morning. You should sleep.”

 “I can’t sleep.”

 Hook eyes her for a moment, taking in the bags under her eyes and the way she was rubbing at her temples, seemingly without even realizing it. “You’re going to run yourself ragged.”

 “Look, no offense, but I really don’t want self-care advice from you.”

 “Why did you come in here?” He asks her instead of retorting like he wants to, not wanting to start another argument, but needing desperately to know where they stand. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. “You made it pretty clear earlier that you were the one in charge, Swan.”

 She winces, and he thinks it’s embarrassment that has her flushing slightly. “I’m not good at… at relying on other people,” she says, and he’s surprised that she’s telling him this at all. “It’s not easy for me to just give over control over a situation. Not after I—“ She stops herself, and Hook feels disappointment wash over him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry that I don’t give you enough credit. I’ll try harder.”

 She stands to leave, and he finds himself wanting to block her path, to make her stay until she forces herself to trust him, but he knows that the trust she doesn’t easily give away will be much better if it’s earned. He didn’t know before how much he really wanted her to trust him, but now that he’s given it a second thought it’s all he can think about.

 He grabs her elbow as she walks past him, turning her around to face him. “Swan,” he starts, but stops himself when he realizes he’s pulled her much closer than he intended, and his heart rate speeds up when she looks up at him, those green eyes of hers so wide. “Try to sleep,” he tells her instead of whatever weird notion he might have in his head. It wouldn’t do to scare her away. They need to stick together if they have any hope of finding her son.

 “Thanks,” she says quietly, and before he can say anything else, she’s gone, only the faint floral smell of her left behind.

 Hook barely sleeps that night.

 

//////

 

The morning comes too quick for all of them. The sun seems too bright, too hot, and too stifling. They’re all in a bad mood, and Hook is sure he’s going to grind his teeth right down to his gums due to stress. He’s trying to let Emma take the lead more, but he’s finding it harder and harder to bite his tongue. Not because of Emma, but more because of everyone else. Her parents keep talking over her, and if Regina rolls her eyes anymore, they’re going to fall right out of her head. The Dark One is long gone; a fact that has Hook both relieved and annoyed. He’s not stupid; he knows they needed his help, but the anger he still feels towards the Crocodile would not have been conducive for teamwork.

 “If we stick to the shore we should be safe from any large animals-“ David is saying.

 “Except the Kraken,” Hook adds, earning a glare from the Prince.

 “We’ll be safe from the Lost Ones, too,”

 “Except for the ones who are older and not afraid of the water,” Hook cuts in again, he really thinks that David might take a swing at him if it isn’t for Emma who cuts them both off at the last second.

 “David, stop it. Hook, you too. Fighting isn’t going to solve anything.”

 “I’m just trying to—“

 “We need to start trusting each other or this is never going to work,” Emma cuts her father off midsentence, and Hook feels a thrill knowing that she’s taking his advice from the night before. She’s trying to trust him and urging her family to do the same, and that _means_ something. “Hook knows this island. We need to do what he says.”

 “Emma--“ Mary Margaret says, her eyes on the shoreline, a strange look in her eyes. “Is that…”

 Hook turns around, his hand automatically going for his sword when he sees a figure on the beach. Whoever it is is running towards the ship, and Hook is on the verge of starting to command orders when he hears Emma whisper a word next to him.

 “What, Swan?” He asks distractedly, pulling his sword from its sheath, as the person gets closer.

 “Neal,” she says again, louder, and the wide-eyed look from her mother confirms it.

 Henry’s father is alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more parts to go, friends! What do you think is going to happen next? Please review and let me know what you think!


	3. I'll go, I'll go, I'll go, I....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal is alive, and Hook ends up in a precarious situation, only to be saved by someone he didn't think would rescue him in a million years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, you guys. I am _so_ sorry. It's been over a year since I updated this, and I feel awful! If you're still here and bothering to read this, I love you so much! 
> 
> Here's the deal: I was really behind on OUAT and wasn't feeling the inspiration for this story anymore, but I wanted so badly to finish it. Everything I wrote was, honestly, complete garbage. You guys deserve only the best from me, and deserve my full effort when it comes to writing fic for y'all to enjoy. 
> 
> Here's the deal now: I'm back! I've made it my mission to finish this story, and one other WIP that I have for this pairing. I promise you won't have to wait a year! I've written a good chunk of the final chapter to this story already, so it should be posted soon-ish. 
> 
> So, without further ado: here's chapter 3. One more to go!

**Previously...**

_“Emma--“ Mary Margaret says, her eyes on the shoreline, a strange look in her eyes. “Is that…”_

_Hook turns around, his hand automatically going for his sword when he sees a figure on the beach. Whoever it is is running towards the ship, and Hook is on the verge of starting to command orders when he hears Emma whisper a word next to him._

_“What, Swan?” He asks distractedly, pulling his sword from its sheath, as the person gets closer._

_“Neal,” she says again, louder, and the wide-eyed look from her mother confirms it._

_Henry’s father is alive._

* * *

 

Everyone is frozen as the man they thought was long gone makes his way up the beach towards him. Baelfire – _Neal_ – hesitates, but when no one says anything, he takes three strides forward before taking Emma into his arms.

 

Hook clamps his jaw shut, forcing himself to remain where he is. He reminds himself that he knows only a few minor details of what transpired between Emma and Neal in the past, and he has no right to start acting like the possessive pirate he is, even if his instincts want him to.

 

“I thought you—“ Emma says, stopping herself in midsentence. She swallows hard, “I thought you were dead.”

 

“I thought I was too, when I woke up here.” Neal says, a small smile on his face. “Going through a portal is… not ideal, but somehow I made it through. I ended up here. I heard fairies talking about Hook’s ship and I knew somehow that you were here.”

 

Hook resists the urge to roll his eyes, but they really have bigger things to get to. He’s not sure how much longer they have before the next threat appears. “I hate to break this up,” he drawls, taking a step towards Emma and Neal, “But we really need to get moving if we’re not going to waste another day.”

 

“Wait, wait,” Emma says, and Hook grinds his teeth once more. She turns to Neal, “Have you seen any sign of Henry?”

 

Neal looks stricken, “No, I thought… you haven’t found him?”

 

“We’ve only been here for a week.”

 

“No… that can’t be right…” Neal says, looking to Hook for confirmation, “I’ve been here for almost a month.”

 

“That’s impossible,” Regina snaps, “You fell through the portal the same day we set sail.”

 

Hook curses under his breath. The island is playing tricks on them. If it’s messing about with people’s sense of time, that can only mean one thing. “Pan is trying to make Henry lose his hope.”

 

“What?” Emma hisses, her eyes narrowed.

 

“Pan is using the magic on the island to affect how time moves. He could make Henry think that he’s been here for weeks or months. If he convinces him that he’s been here long enough and no one has come looking for him…”

 

“… He’ll give up. He’ll think we’ve forgotten about him,” Emma finishes, her eyes locked on his.

 

Hook hates the panic he sees in her eyes. He wishes he could just find the boy for her, so that they could get off this godforsaken island that has done nothing but make them all feel worse about their situation.

 

“We need to find him. Fast.” Mary Margaret says, and Emma nods in agreement.

 

“So we agreed the shore is out, yes?” Hook confirms, smirking at David.

 

“I suppose we’re following your lead on this one, Hook, but don’t make me regret it.” David says, glaring at him.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, mate.” Hook grins at him before turning on his heel and heading into the forest, making sure everyone is following close behind him.

 

 

//////

 

 

“Another day wasted,” Regina rants, pacing back and forth in front of the small campfire they’ve set up. “I don’t understand why you won’t just let me poof over to Pan’s little camp and wipe him out for good.”

 

“We’ve been over this,” Hook starts, rolling his eyes, “You yourself said that your magic works differently here. For all you know, you’ll poof yourself right into an active volcano.”

 

“Us sitting around a campfire singing Kumbaya isn’t going to help me find my son any faster--”

 

“You’re not the only one who wants to find him,” Emma interrupted. “Can we please just get some sleep?”

 

They’ve decided not to go back to the _Jolly Roger_ for the night – it’s too far away now, and they’d have to start their trek all over again in the morning, so setting up camp in the jungle is the most practical option.

 

Hook studies her for a moment, seeing the bags under her eyes practically growing darker with every minute that passes. He can’t help the worry that fills him and likely shows in his eyes when she meets his gaze from across the campfire.

 

They lock eyes for a few moments, something unspoken passing between them with every second that ticks by. If anyone notices, they don’t say anything, and he’s grateful for that. They don’t say anything, but he feels like they don’t have to – their eyes are doing all the talking.

 

_Are you all right?_

_No, but I will be._

_I worry about you._

_Don’t._

 

At least, that’s what he hopes they’re communicating. It’s all new to him – trying to convince a practical stranger who already has trust issues to trust _him_ – but he hopes he’s doing a well enough job that she doesn’t feel completely hopeless.

 

After a few more minutes of silent communication, he can feel Baelfire practically drilling holes into the side of his head with his eyes, and breaks Emma’s gaze.

 

“I need some air,” Emma says to no one in particular, and before anyone can say anything, she’s up and moving into the jungle, and Hook is relieved to see her cutlass strapped to her back. At least she has the sense to be armed if she’s going to insist on being alone.

 

After a moment, Hook sees Baelfire out of the corner of his eye rise from his seat around the fire and go into the jungle the same way that Emma had, and he fights the urge to follow them. It’s not his business. He told himself when he went back to get them in Storybrooke that he wasn’t going to get involved. It wasn’t worth getting to know any of these people, especially when none of them were ever going to see him as anything more than a villain, no matter what he did or said.

 

“… None of your business, I can’t believe you would even ask…” Emma’s voice comes drifting through the trees, and Hook tenses, along with the other members of their little makeshift campsite.

 

“You can’t trust him.” Baelfire’s voice is low but fierce, and obviously not as quiet as he intended ( _unless he wanted you and everyone else to hear,_ Hook thinks bitterly).

 

“I’m not having this conversation.”

 

Emma comes bursting through the trees, and jolts in surprise at the way everyone is already facing her. She meets Hook’s eyes briefly, but he tears his gaze away, not wanting her to feel more awkward than she already does. He knows her well enough to know that she doesn’t like to be made a spectacle, and he intends to respect that.

 

He worries though, that Baelfire’s sudden presence in the group is going to make Emma even more withdrawn than she’s been before. He doesn’t know the whole story there, but he knows how the lad can be when he’s been scorned – he can become downright cruel and hurtful if he feels he has a reason to be, and Hook doesn’t want to be the reason that Baelfire turns on Emma. There’s too much at stake here, and it might be helpful to have someone else around that knows as much about the island as he does.

 

“Can I talk to you?” A voice at his elbow startles him, and speak of the devil, it’s Baelfire himself.

 

“What about?” The lad – _man,_ now – has never wanted to ‘talk’ to him before.

 

“It’s important.”

 

Hook sighs but follows Baelfire into the woods all the same, hoping that they can just get whatever awkwardness is about to follow over and out of the way.

 

“You made quite the entrance back there on the beach,” he comments casually, but the other man doesn’t take the bait.

 

“What are you doing here with them, Hook?” The way he says his name is with such venom that the Killian Jones from years ago would have flinched.

 

“I assume you know that your own son is missing,” Hook sneers.

 

“Don’t play games with me.”

 

“Look, Bael—“

 

“It’s _Neal_.”

 

Hook looks at this man that he used to know for a long moment, and still sees so much of a lost boy in him. He’s still trying to run, trying to distance himself from his past and his lineage. Using another name proves how he’s desperate to keep that separation in place.

 

“Very well,” Hook waves his hand around in a dismissive gesture, “Neal.” He sighs, “I couldn’t very well leave them all there when the town was about to implode and a boy was missing, could I.”

 

“You don’t do that. You don’t save people.”

 

“Saved you once, or have you forgotten?”

 

“You traded me in to Pan!” Neal’s chest heaves as he all but yells, the truth of the accusation like nails into Hook’s coffin, sealing his position as a villain.

 

“Aye. I did.” He looks up, meeting Neal’s eyes. “I regretted it.”

 

“Well regrets are all well and good, but that still doesn’t answer my question. You’re after Emma, aren’t you?”

 

Hook bristles at the insinuation that he’s _after her_ like a dog goes after a scrap of food, but doesn’t rise to the argument that he knows Neal is itching to have. “This is a waste of time. We should be resting if we’re going to find Henry tomorrow.”

 

He turns to leave, but Neal’s voice stops him. “She’s never going to love you, you know. It doesn’t matter what you tell her. She’s the _Savior_. All you’re ever going to be is a pirate, and a killer.”

 

Hook does freeze then, the words from a boy he once loved as his own cutting through him like blades, making all the breath rush out of his body as the words sink in. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t try to argue with the man ( _because he’s right_ , a small voice in his head says, _you’re a pirate, and you’ll never be good enough for a Princess_ ), just takes another step forward until he can force himself to walk back to camp and pretend like he’s his regular, over-confident self.

 

/////////

 

The next morning is dark and rainy, and Hook wakes up freezing cold, half-hoping that the rest of the island is still asleep as he gets up and starts to look around for food.

 

The others are still asleep, in tents that Regina managed to construct for them overnight. He’s grateful that she even bothered to do the same for him – he thought she would have been more like to just leave him out in the cold in hopes that he would freeze to death overnight.

 

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t hear how still and quiet the jungle has become, not until he feels someone watching him. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, and he barely has time to turn around before he feels an invisible force at his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

 

When he regains his bearings, he turns his head to look up at his attacker, and his eyes narrow and he barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Bloody hell, don’t tell me you’re—“

 

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. A blow to the back of his head sends everything into darkness, and he barely has time to wonder if anyone will even notice he’s gone before his eyes slip shut.

 

When he wakes, he’s immediately aware of his wrists and ankles bound together as he sits in a chair in the middle of a large room. He sighs, knowing where he is, and doesn’t bother struggling.

 

“You can come out now,” he calls. “I won’t put up a fight. Well, not much of one.”

 

He’s only marginally surprised when Pan appears in front of him. His magic has improved since all those years Hook spent in Neverland.

 

“Hello, Captain!” The boy says, and Hook narrows his eyes. “It’s so good of you to join me.”

 

“I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

 

Pan smiles, and Hook wants to hit him. “No, I suppose you didn’t. Sorry about that. See, for some reason you’re traveling with the Savior, and I can’t have her knowing where I am.”

 

“Naturally.” Hook deadpans.

 

“Now, I know you’re not actually _helping_ her, so I brought you here to help me instead.”

 

Hook laughs. “Why would I do that?”

 

Pan’s face changes in an instant. His face is full of dark fury as he spits out, “Because otherwise I’ll kill you, that’s why.”

 

“What do you want, Pan?” Hook asks, struggling to keep his voice level. “What do you want with Henry?”

 

“You let me worry about that.” Pan says, a smug look on his face. “Can’t have you blabbing to the others, so I think I’ll keep you here for a little while longer.” He turns to leave the room, and Hook struggles against his bindings. “Don’t try to leave. I’ll have Felix pay you a visit, and you and I both know he probably won’t be very nice to you.”

 

The door shuts behind him with a soft _click_ , and Hook sits there, fuming. He’s not quite sure how to get himself out of this mess. He has a dagger in his boot, but with his hands bound, there’s no way he’s going to get to it. Even if he manages to free himself, he’s sure there’s magic keeping him from getting out of this room undetected.

 

Sighing, he sits there in his anger and tries to figure it out. A distant part of him (that he refuses to dwell on) hopes that by now, Emma has figured out he’s missing, and is trying to find him.

 

////////

 

Hook sleeps.

 

There’s nothing else to do, and he hasn’t yet formulated a good escape plan, so he sleeps.

 

He dreams of Emma.

 

He hates himself for it, because he feels like he’s fighting a losing battle, but he can’t help it.

 

He dreams of her smile, of her gold hair that shines like the sun. He dreams of the way she looked at him that night in his cabin, and he dreams of the way her body felt against his as he held her on his ship.

 

A noise at the door wakes him up, and he startles when the door opens, and a small figure darts inside.

 

“What—“

 

“ _Shh_!” The voice hisses. “They’ll hear you.”

 

 _Bloody hell_. “Henry?” Hook asks, his voice incredulous. “How—“

 

“I was in the camp when they brought you in here. I saw where they took you but I haven’t been able to sneak away until now.”

 

“If they catch you—“

 

“They won’t catch me.” Henry says, and Hook has to smile. _Stubborn like his mother_ , he thinks. “We have to hurry. Do you have something I can cut these ropes with?”

 

“Aye.” Hook directs Henry to find his dagger, and then ropes around his wrists are blessedly loose, and soon his ankles are free too. “I don’t have a sword,” Hook warns.

 

“Neither do I.” Henry says. “I think we can sneak past them if we’re quiet. The Lost Boys…” he trails off, looking sad.

 

“They have nightmares.” Hook finishes for him, remembering the noise that kept him up for so many nights. “Okay, lad, let’s put this plan of yours into action.” Ignoring his protesting muscles, he kneels down in front of Henry so he can see his eyes. “The first sign of trouble, I want you to run east as fast as you can.”

 

Henry looks like he wants to roll his eyes, but he doesn’t. Hook restrains a chuckle.

 

“How do I know which way is east?”

 

Hook reaches inside his coat and pulls out his compass. He hesitates only slightly, rubbing his thumb over the smooth metal, worn from years of use. “Use this.”

 

Henry’s eyes are wide as he stares at the compass. “I can’t take this—“

 

“You can, and you _will_. Listen to me—“ Hook puts his hands on Henry’s shoulders. “Your family is here looking for you. They’ve set up camp east of here, but if they’re gone, you need to go to my ship. It’s on the coast, near the East Bay. You’ll be safe there.” Seeing the boy looking increasingly worried, Hook ruffles his hair gently. “I expect to get that back,” he says, smiling. “So take good care of it.”

 

“What about you?” Henry asks, his face so open and earnest that for a heart-stopping minute, Hook thinks he might actually have tears welling in his eyes. He can’t remember the last time someone was genuinely worried about his wellbeing.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Hook assures him, his voice rough. “You stick by me, and if I tell you to, you run. Got it?”

 

“Got it,” Henry says, and the pair make their way out of the small room into what looks like a long hallway, and Hook knows where he is, suddenly. He’s been here before.

 

His heart twists when he thinks of Tinkerbell, and where she might be. _This was her home_ , his mind shouts at him, but he forces the thoughts away, forces his mind to stop thinking about what it might mean that Pan is here now, clearly occupying this place.

 

“The door is over there,” Henry whispers.

 

“You didn’t think I was going to just let you two walk out of here, did you?” A voice booms from behind them, and Hook’s eyes slam shut, because _of course_ Pan knew they were trying to escape. Of course.

 

“Let the boy go, Pan.” Hook says.

 

“No, I don’t think I will.”

 

Hook sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and moves before Henry has a chance to, intercepting Felix as the older boy tries to get to Henry. The tip of his Hook is at the boy’s throat, and Felix glares up at Hook.

 

“You’re not going to make it out of here, _Captain_.”

 

“With my luck, neither will you.”

 

Distracted, Pan doesn’t notice as Henry slips out the door, the compass clenched tightly in his hand. He makes eye contact with Hook one last time, and then he’s gone.

 

Hook can only hope that he gets far enough away before Pan realizes it, and hopes that he catches up to his family, to Emma.

 

“Leave him,” Pan orders, and Felix stops struggling. “Henry is too good of a person to leave Hook here all alone. They’ll be back, and we’ll be waiting.”

 

Hook feels a sense of foreboding as he sees anger flash over Pan’s face. “Take him back to the back room, and tie those ropes tighter.”

 

Hook opens his mouth to protest, but is cut off when Felix’s fist connects with his jaw, sending them both sprawling to the floor. On instinct, Hook sweeps his left leg out in front of him, keeping Felix from getting back up. With his good hand, Hook swipes the sword out of Felix’s hand, and has it pressed up against Pan’s throat all in a matter of seconds.

 

“You’re going to let me walk out of here, and you are not going to follow me.” Hook says, his voice dark.

 

“You’re going to regret this, Captain.”

 

“I don’t think you’re in such a position to be making threats, lad.” Hook growls, pressing the tip of the sword closer to Pan’s throat.

 

Pan rolls his eyes. “Oh, _fine_. Go. But I’ll catch up to you sooner or later, and I won’t be nice when I do.”

 

Hook doesn’t doubt it, but he’s also not one to turn down an offer when he gets one, even one that comes with a threat, so he keeps his sword trained on Pan as he slowly begins backing out of the room.

 

“Well, I can’t say it was nice seeing you again, but thanks for the company. It was not a pleasure.” Hook says, unable to resist mock bowing before he’s out the door, making a break for the forest.

 

He has two thoughts on his mind as he tears through the trees: find Henry, and find Emma.

 

He has to hope that he’ll make it that far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr @dreamingundone, and check out the fic I've been writing most recently - which is for t100 fandom.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is short, I know, but I only planned for this to be a oneshot! I'm going to write at least two more parts to wrap things up, so watch this space! You can also read this on my [Tumblr](http://dreamingundone.tumblr.com).


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